The space of the drawing room was empty. The First Gentleman that came was asked to wait outside. The walls of the drawing room were painted a soft, pale green, and tall windows let in the bright morning sunlight. A warm fire crackled in the marble fireplace.

Delaney sat on a comfortable, cream-colored sofa. Aunt Renee sat right beside her, acting as the perfect, strict chaperone.

Delaney smoothed the skirts of her pale yellow silk dress. She took a deep breath. She was entirely ready to face the long line of men waiting outside her door.

Mr. Benry, the butler, stood at the entrance. He cleared his throat and announced the very first caller.

"Mr. Rolfe Penhaligon, my lady," Mr. Benry said politely.

A young, nice-looking gentleman walked into the room. He wore a neat brown coat and held a simple walking stick. He looked incredibly nervous. His hands were shaking slightly as he offered a deep bow.

"Lady Kingsley," Mr. Penhaligon said, his voice quiet. "It is a great honor to meet you. The county is overjoyed by your return."

Delaney offered him a polite, gentle smile. "Thank you, Mr. Penhaligon. Please, have a seat."

The young man sat down on the chair across from her. He talked politely about the fine weather and the condition of the local roads.

He was a nice gentleman, and he did not stare at her with greedy eyes, but Delaney knew exactly why he was here. He was a second son with no fortune of his own, hoping to secure a wealthy bride.

After ten minutes of polite conversation, Mr. Penhaligon leaned forward slightly. "I would be deeply honored to call upon you again, Lady Kingsley. Perhaps we might take a carriage ride?"

Delaney kept her smile perfectly pleasant, but her voice was firm.

"You are very kind, sir," Delaney replied softly. "However, I have only just returned to my family home. I am still settling my affairs, and my heart is not currently seeking any new attachments. I must politely decline your offer. Good day to you, Mr. Penhaligon."

The young man looked slightly disappointed, but he nodded respectfully. He stood up, bowed again, and left the room without causing a fuss.

As soon as the door closed, Mr. Benry opened it again to announce the next caller.

"Mr. Horace Berwick," the butler called out.

This man was entirely different. He was older, wearing a very bright, expensive coat. He had a greedy, assessing look in his eyes. He walked into the drawing room and immediately began looking at the expensive paintings on the walls and the fine silver tea set on the table. He was calculating her wealth before he even said hello.

He sat down heavily in the chair and smiled a greasy, confident smile.

"Lady Kingsley," Mr. Berwick began, his voice loud and pompous. "Oakridge is a very fine property. Very fine indeed. But I must say, a large estate like this requires a firm, experienced man to manage the accounts and the farmlands. A delicate woman such as yourself should not be burdened with such heavy math."

Delaney’s jaw tightened slightly, but she maintained her perfect, polite manners. Aunt Renee raised a sharp eyebrow, entirely unimpressed by the rude man.

"I assure you, Mr. Berwick," Delaney replied, her voice cooling considerably. "My mind is perfectly capable of understanding mathematics. The property is currently managed quite well by its rightful owner."

Mr. Berwick ignored her subtle hint. "Even so, my lady, a wealthy woman needs a protector. I would be most willing to step into that role."

Delaney sat up completely straight. She looked directly into his greedy eyes.

"I have no need for a protector, sir," Delaney said firmly, politely declining his rude advances. "And I have absolutely no intention of merging my newly acquired estate with anyone else’s. Thank you for your brief visit. Mr. Benry will see you out. Good day."

Mr. Berwick’s confident smile vanished. He realized he had been sharply dismissed. He stood up, offered a very stiff, angry bow, and marched out of the room.

The morning dragged on slowly. Every man that entered the drawing room was politely but firmly declined. There were men who recited bad poetry, men who talked endlessly about their hunting dogs, and men who simply stared at her with hungry eyes. Delaney offered each of them exactly one cup of tea and a polite refusal. It was an incredibly exhausting performance.

Meanwhile, outside the grand manor, a large carriage pulled smoothly into the stone courtyard. The horses came to a complete stop.

A footman jumped down and opened the carriage door. Rowan, the Duke of Ford, stepped out into the crisp air.

He looked devastatingly handsome. He wore a perfectly tailored dark blue morning coat, clean leather boots, and a crisp white cravat.

In his hand, he held a beautiful, expensive bunch of brightly colored flowers. There were bright yellow tulips and soft pink roses, wrapped neatly in paper. He had bought them specially for her.

He walked confidently up the wide stone steps, a happy, eager smile resting on his lips. He was completely ready to begin his formal courtship of the woman he loved.

He walked through the open double front doors and entered the grand foyer.

Suddenly, Rowan stopped dead in his tracks.

His happy smile completely vanished.

He looked down the main hallway. He was absolutely surprised to see a long line of men standing in the corridor. Some were leaning against the walls, checking their pocket watches, while others were holding silly little bouquets of cheap flowers.

Rowan’s eyes darkened instantly. A sudden, massive wave of territorial jealousy flared hotly in his chest. He knew exactly what this was.These men were here to try and steal Delaney.

Rowan clenched his jaw tightly. He gripped the bouquet of bright flowers so hard the stems nearly snapped in his hand.

He saw Mr. Benry, the butler, standing nervously near the drawing room doors. Rowan took long, angry strides across the foyer and approached the older man.

Rowan leaned in close. He kept his voice low, but it was filled with dangerous authority.

"What is going on here?" Rowan whispered sharply, his eyes flashing.

Mr. Benry looked at the tall, angry Duke. The butler began to sweat slightly. He knew the Duke of Ford was a very powerful man who cared deeply for Lady Kingsley.

"They are here to call on the lady, Your Grace," Mr. Benry replied in a shaky whisper.

Rowan blinked. He turned his head slowly and looked back at the pathetic line of waiting men. His expression was a mixture of absolute disbelief and deep annoyance.

"Call on her?" Rowan asked, his deep voice carrying a mocking edge. "Half of these men look like they are simply looking for a free cup of tea."

Mr. Benry wrung his white-gloved hands together. He looked completely miserable.

"I am so sorry, Your Grace," Mr. Benry apologized quickly, his voice full of fear. "I did not do my job well. I know the lady is currently angry with the situation. Please, I beg of you, do not let me get fired on my very first week. I have a family to feed."

Rowan looked at the panicked butler. His anger slowly faded, replaced by a calm understanding of the rules of society. The butler could not easily turn away noblemen who had a legal right to leave a calling card.

"You will not be fired, Benry," Rowan sighed softly, calming the older man. "You followed polite protocol."

Rowan just stood there in the hallway, crossing his arms over his broad chest. He leaned against the wall, holding his bright flowers, and glared at the line of men. Every time a gentleman looked in his direction, Rowan offered a cold, terrifying stare that made the other men quickly look down at their shoes.